When he kisses me, I cry. I explain it's not because I wish he were someone else, it's because it's such a shock to the system to be desired after feeling so completely abandoned.

I still believe that you truly find yourself not in travel, but in other human souls.

Yes, I have patterns of love addiction. But I'm a woman. Of course I do.

I do think everything that happens in American pop culture sort of prescribes for England and does end up happening there six months later, maybe a year.

Well. There is a psychiatric occurrence we see in men-not often women-where they put all their hopes and dreams onto one person, so intensely that at some point it trips a wire in the brain circuitry, and that causes them to go, in a minute, 180 degrees the other way.

But I saw the pain and sadness in everything, and swirled it round my mouth like a fine wine.

I'm in love with someone good and kind and gentle, and he's seen the darkness too, but somehow we've become each other's light.